


no other nexus between man and man

by ships_to_sail



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Retail, Banter, Blow Jobs, M/M, Not My Yacht, Sexual Harassment, affirmative consent is sexy AF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/pseuds/ships_to_sail
Summary: Rafael nodded and mumbled ‘that’s right’, as though he’d actually known the blonde’s name to begin with. Sonny’d only been working at TechMart for a week, but he’d managed so far to catch nothing but whispers and whiffs of the general manager. It helped that his best baby sister was one of the assistant managers, and thus had been able to hire him without a ton of oversight, but it was that same blatant nepotism that meant he had to be on his best behavior.





	no other nexus between man and man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [barbaXcarisi (barbaXbenson)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbaXbenson/gifts).



> One time barbaxcarisi and I were debating about [Not My Yacht Barba](https://larkistin.tumblr.com/post/154688352626/what-a-day-at-work-i-need-some-not-my) and how I will always think he looks like a GM for Radio Shack. She said she'd read that AU, but I don't think she really thought I'd write it.
> 
> Well, I did, because I'm me, and because I adore barbaxcarisi, and because I just couldn't get it out of my brain.
> 
> Fun fact: There are no more radio shacks in the city of Manhattan. Tagged for sexual harassment, even though everything here is actively consensual, because power dynamics are real. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Power_Bottom_Barba for the beta. Title from Marx & Engel's _The Communist Manifesto_.
> 
> Got a few extra comments/kudos around? Never be afraid to toss a few to your fic writers.

“Would you stop fussing, you look like you’re about to jump outta your skin.”

“If I have to spend another second in these pants that’s the least I’m gonna do.”

“Oh, calm down. They’re khakis, not lace and leather.

“I’ll have you know that khakis are the color of dreams gone to die.”

“Bella, anything you’d like to share with the group?”

“No, Mr. Barba,” Bella squeaked, her shoulders hunching forward as the withering green gaze of the store owner swiveled in her direction. A blush bloomed in her cheeks and Sonny felt his chest clench in preemptive defense of his sister. “I was just explaining to my brother that the khakis are part of the uniform.”

Rafael Barba turned smartly on his heel and made his way across the small storefront. It was early enough that the sallow halogen lights overhead were still brighter than the budding light outside, but it looked to Sonny like the man in front of him hadn’t slept at all. Or rather, hadn’t needed to sleep. He held his hands behind his back as he half-marched towards the Carisi siblings, his shiny loafers catching sickly squares of light as they moved.

Sonny gulped, awash with flashbacks of the principal's office at his Catholic high school, and he kept his eyes on the ground when the shorter man stopped in front of him. “Mr. Carisi. Damian, right?”

Bella snorted, and Sonny wanted to kick her. “Dominick,” he corrected, his voice low. “But I go by Sonny.”

Rafael nodded and mumbled ‘that’s right’, as though he’d actually known the blonde’s name to begin with. Sonny’d only been working at TechMart for a week, but he’d managed so far to catch nothing but whispers and whiffs of the general manager. It helped that his best baby sister was one of the assistant managers, and thus had been able to hire him without a ton of oversight, but it was that same blatant nepotism that meant he had to be on his best behavior.

“Sonny. Do you have a problem with the uniform requirements here at TechMart?”

“No, sir.”

“No, sir? Well, aren’t we polite.”

“Like my mother raised me,” Sonny shot back, his tone edged in ice. The kind of ice that lined the slippery slope to unemployment. 

“Well my mother didn’t raise a fool,” Rafael shot back, his eyebrow raising at the banter. From what Sonny gathered, there weren’t a lot of people on the payroll who decided to talk back to the Big Boss. “So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like one by wasting my time. Khakis. Red Polo. Black shoes, nonskid. That’s the uniform, capiche?”

Sonny’s felt the blush creep up his neck and turn the bottoms of his ears bright, tomato red. “Capiche,” he said quietly, adding a few choice Italian phrases his nonno would have been proud of when Barba turned around. 

“I heard that,” Rafael said over his shoulder, and Bella reached out to pinch Sonny in the thigh.

“You know you’re gonna have to move back in with mom and dad if you get fired,” she hissed in his ear, and Sonny shrugged. She was right.

But damn it all, it was going to be a long day.

 

*

Growing up in the Bronx, Rafael Barba’s mouth had gotten him in more trouble than he liked to recall. First in the alleyways, fists against flesh when even Eddie’s prowess couldn’t keep him safe. Later, in the Church, when his hatred of hypocrisy and his love for boys resulted in a screaming match with the Bishop there weren’t enough candles in the world to fix. And then there had come a day when his tongue got him out of trouble, and in to business. It turned out Rafael Barba was a very, very talented salesman. 

Talented enough that, when the financial aid ran out and the law library hours stopped keeping him in even the most threadbare socks and ramen noodles, he was still able to turn a part time shift at an aging Radio Shack into an assistant manager position. It didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t like what he was selling, or even know that much about it. He was good at bossing people around, and good at spinning the kind of bullshit that sold expensive toys to silly people. 

So a furlough became a hiatus. A hiatus became a break. And a break became a career, not as a lawyer, not as el juez like his Abuelita had loved to call him. But as a regional manager of lower Manhattan’s biggest Radio Shack. He lived his life that way for almost a decade, watching as the technology he sold became further and further removed from something tactile to something digital, the size of stock shrinking as the markets shifted and, the next thing he new, those columns and columns of black turned red.

In the end, he sold the store and moved, opening his own business in a smaller neighborhood, not too far from the bodega he used to steal condoms from on his way home from Chad Robinson’s house. He sold tech toys, because that’s what he knew, and he drank cheap scotch, because that’s all he could afford anymore, and in the darkest hours of the night he took home men who reminded him of all the things he’d wanted, but never got. 

**

What had started out as a bad day was on a solidly downward trajectory. Sonny spilled coffee on the dreaded khakis and had to fish a pair a size too small out of the communal bin. With his pants painted on and the outline of his dick practically visible from space, it came as no shock to him that he missed out closing three different laptop sales. He and Bella got into it over lunch in true Carisi fashion, meaning she called him three different versions of the word ‘asshole’ and he managed to knock his Caesar salad all over the break room. And, as the last straw, when he went to get the mop water he found a drowned rat in the bucket - after he’d spilled the damn thing all over himself tripping over his own two feet on the way to the breakroom.

He was dirty. He was wet. And he felt like he’d need a million rat-free showers to come close to feeling normal.

He knocked on the door to Rafael’s office and didn’t bother waiting for a reply.

Rafael Barba was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands as his eyes scanned row after row of numbers on a laptop screen. Sonny couldn’t see what they were, but they were giving him a headache anyway. 

“Hey, Mr. Barba. Look, I gotta go.”

“Hmmm,” Rafael looked up, distracted. “Why’s that Donald?”

Carisi huffed in annoyance and just leveled a stare at Barba, his hand gesturing to his shirt and khakis, both a mess. “Spill with the mop water. I gotta go home and change, but I was kinda hoping…:” he let his voice trail off, not sure how to say what he was getting at, so choosing not to instead.

“Hoping I’d let you go home and stay home?” Rafael asked lightly, his voice tinged with humor. Something close to hope bubbled in Sonny’s chest.

“Yeah, actually! It’s actually been a totally shitt-”

“Sorry, David. But no can do. Alyssa already went home sick, and Reed switched his schedule so he’s not available to close anymore. You sister closed last night, so unless you’d like to tell her she’s now working a double and will be here to close again tonight?”

Sonny gulped. That was literally the last thing in the world he wanted to do. The bubbles of hope popped in little bursts of resentment and anger, and Sonny nodded. “Fine. Can I at least go home and change?”

“Of course, Daniel. I’m not a monster. See you back here in an hour.”

He went back to his laptop and Sonny bit back a laugh. “‘I said good day, sir!’” he muttered, and had the door almost closed behind him when he heard Rafael respond.

“Just don’t steal my fizzy lifting drink, and we’ll be fine.”

Sonny shut the door with a smile on his face and the certainty that Rafael Barba had just made a Willy Wonka joke. With him. 

**

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barba. I really am. I don’t know where the other three dollars went, but here,” Sonny held out a crumpled ball of bills, still a little damp from being shoved in his front pocket. “I swear, it’s been such a shit day, it’s just my luck that my drawer came up short.”

Rafael sat back in his desk chair and cupped his hands on the back of his neck. Sonny was perched on a stool next to him, his only other pair of khakis so new they still had the fold lines and price-tag sticker residue on the thigh. He’d ditched his red uniform polo for his plain white undershirt after they’d lowered the security gate for closing and it was just him and Barba in the store. He’d dusted, and vacuumed, and put out the trash, and now all he had to do before he went home was get Rafael to balance his drawer. 

Which was hard to do, when Sonny ended up being three dollars short. Because of course. 

Rafael looked back and forth between Sonny’s face and the wad of cash in his hand and waved him away. “Sit down, Douglass.” He turned and pulled a small bottle of scotch from his bottom drawer, alongside two paper cups. Sonny just stood, hands in his pockets now, an annoyed look pinching his face. After another few beats, when he still hadn’t sat, Rafael looked back up at him and motioned to the chair. As if Sonny wasn’t sitting because he just didn’t see it.

“You’re kidding me with that shit, right? You know my name.”

Rafael stared back, breaking his gaze long enough to run one long gaze up and down Sonny’s body, lingering momentarily on the shadow of nipple visible through the pale white cotton, the small dusting of hair between his belly button and waistline, visible from Rafael;s seated position. For as irritating as the day - as the man - had been, Sonny couldn’t help but feel a warmth grow, low in his belly.

“Yeah, I know. Sit down, Sonny” Rafael said, and this time he did. He slid back on to his stool and took the drink that Rafael offered him. He still really, really wanted to go home, but now he had a free drink in his hand, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of that look. “Why do you work here?”

Sonny almost choked on the cheap booze.

“Oh, uh. Capitalism, I guess?”

Rafael looked at him a beat and then threw back his head and laughed, a deep and genuine laugh that brought a warmth of a different kind to Sonny’s body, this one nestled right behind his heart. “I have to tell you, that was not the answer I was expecting.”

Sonny smiled and shrugged. “Ask an unexpected question, get an unexpected answer.”

“Is it really an unexpected question? You clearly hate it here.”

“You’re my boss. Legally, I’m not allowed to officially confirm that.”

Rafael snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Spare me. I went to law school, you know, for a few years, and I like to think I’ve still got the chops to tell when someone is lying to me.”

“No shit?” Sonny knocked back the rest of the liquor in his cup and, without thinking, held it out for more. “How’d you end up here? Seems like a long road from law school to tech store manager.”

“Not that long, really, and paved with bigger debts than you could possibly imagine,” Rafael said wryly, finishing his own drink before pouring another round for both of them. “Seriously. Why do you work here if you hate it so much?”

Sonny paused and ran a thumb around the edge of his cup. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Bella’s my sister, and she loves me a lot. Things with my folks...I love them a lot, but living there isn’t always the best thing. She got me the job here so I wouldn’t have to do that anymore.”

Rafael nodded. “From your mouth to God’s ears,” he said, and Sonny fought to keep the surprise off his face. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with the details, but even this was more sympathy than he’d been expecting.

Sonny cleared his throat and caught Rafael’s eye. “You know, I don’t hate it here. Really.” Rafael quirked an eyebrow, a skill Sonny was rapidly coming to appreciate, and Sonny smiled. “Okay, so I may have told Bella that khakis were the colors of dreams gone to die. But other than that, I don’t hate the job here. I’m just no good at the job here.”

“So go do something else,” Rafael said glibly. Sonny rolled his eyes. 

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just pop right over into that dream job I’ve been neglecting to pull night shifts here at TechMart.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound that bitter, but it was too late to take it back now.

Silence filled the office as Rafael considered Sonny, his intense green gaze digging hooks deep in to Sonny, so that by the time he finally looked away Sonny would have sworn it hurt. “I’m sorry, Sonny. That was...inconsiderate. Believe me, I’m not one to judge someone doing what they need to do to get by. Former almost-never-was-a-lawyer, remember?” He raised his glass in a sardonic toast and drained it again. Sonny joined him, the world beginning to blur around the edges as the second drink settled into his limbs and made him feel delightfully warm. Rafael considered him a moment before taking his paper cup and tossing both his own and Sonny’s in the trash. 

“So I guess we’re done with those, then,” Sonny quipped, only half disappointed. But Rafael didn’t laugh. He was watching Sonny, his teeth peeking out from beneath his upper lip where they worried at the fullness of his bottom lip.

“I need to ask you something, and I need you in a clear - well, mostly clear - headspace to answer.”

Sonny sat up a little straighter, suddenly nervous. “Uh, Mr. Barba-”

“What would you do if you could, Sonny?”

“What?” 

Sonny felt like he was running an obstacle course he hadn’t meant to enter, and now he was just trying to catch up.

Rafael sat back and took a deep breath. “If you could do what you said, step out of here an in to any job you wanted, what would you do?”

“I always failed this part of my PSATs.”

“Stop deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m being honest. I don’t know what I would do.”

“Can I give you one piece of unsolicited advice, then? Figure it out. Before you end up slamming double shots with an employee in the back room of a store you never meant to own.”

Sonny nodded, but didn’t say anything. Rafael was fidgeting with the watch on his wrist, an old metal number despite the dozens of digital versions he sold in his store, and it gave Sonny the chance to look at him. To notice how deep the circles under his eyes looked, how many small strands of grey decorated the brown at his temples. Sonny wasn’t sure how hold Rafael was, but he was one hundred percent sure he looked more tired than he should. His fingers twitched and he wanted to reach out and run his fingers along the crests of Rafael’s cheeks, to feel the pads of his fingers whisper their way over his fatigue and do their best to soothe it away.

He shifted forward minutely in his seat and put his hand on Rafael’s knee, those same twitching fingertips coming to rest on the outside of his thigh. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. Rafael’s head snapped towards him, his gaze intense and his brow furrowed in question. Sonny reached out his other hand and ran a single finger over the wrinkles between Rafael’s eyes, his gaze soft and focused on Rafael’s lips as he leaned forward, bracing his weight on Rafael’s knee as his other hand wrapped around the side of his neck.

He stopped, close enough that he could smell the alcohol on the other man’s breath. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “Rafael. Can I kiss you?” Rafael’s breath hitched, and he nodded. Sonny smiled and closed the last few, desperate centimeters between them. 

Rafael’s lips were warm, and dry, and softer than Sonny would have predicted. He tasted of smoke and cedar and, underneath it all, a hint of cherry chapstick that delighted Sonny. He licked along the seam of Rafael’s lips, tentative until Rafael’s mouth opened against his own, allowing him entrance, and Sonny licked into Rafael’s mouth with a moan. He leaned forward, his hand pressing up into the soft skin on the underside of Rafael’s jaw, feeling the heady beat of his pulse underneath his fingers.

Rafael leaned back and Sonny found himself slipping, falling forward as the balance of his weight on Rafael’s knee shifted. He crashed into a heap at Rafael’s feet and both men burst out laughing. 

“That was,” Sonny gasped between guffaws so big they racked his body like sobs, “maybe the least sexy thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Rafael slid out of his seat, his laughs slowing to chuckles as his eyes darkened enticingly. “Then consider yourself very, very lucky,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his hand in the front of Sonny’s t-shirt. He brought their lips roughly back together, the hesitation and sweetness giving way to conquering lips, teeth, tongues. Sonny’s hands ran over Rafael’s chest, his long fingers dipping down beneath his uniform regulation khaki slacks and untucking the tight red polo so he could run flat palms against the soft expanse of belly underneath. Rafael shivered, and Sonny made a sound low in his throat, close enough to a growl that he wouldn’t have been able to think of a different word for it. Rafael’s hands joined Sonny’s at the hem of his shirt, and he pulled it over his head in one swift motion. 

Before the shirt had hit the floor, Sonny had his lips back on Rafael, pressing long kisses against the column of his neck, the center of his breastbone, the tender ridge of muscle where his neck met his shoulder. He pressed his weight into the other man, relishing the heat beneath him as Rafael pillowed his arms beneath his head and Sonny pressed a line of kisses from his bellybutton to his fly, his fingers making quick work of the buckle and button. 

Rafael lifted his hips and wiggled out of his pants, a deliciously dark spot already blooming on the front of his maroon boxers. Sonny settled himself between Rafael’s thighs, his fingers digging into the meat, not hard enough to leave bruises but close enough that Rafael hissed through his teeth and Sonny chuckled a dark, low sound. 

Keeping eye contact with Rafael, Sonny lowered his mouth to Rafael’s erection, straining against his boxer-briefs, and exhaled heavily, his breath warm and heavy through the thin cotton. He mouthed at Rafael, the friction of fabric on his already sensitive cock sending the man’s hips bucking. With one hand, Sonny pressed a scorching palm into the angle of Rafael’s hips, holding him still, while the other hand slipped the elastic of Rafael’s underwear down far enough for his cock to spring free.

Sonny made a hungry little purring noise and licked out gently, lapping up the few beads of precome that had already formed at the head. Rafael tasted so delicious, dark and tangy and salty with sweat, and Sonny wanted to devour him whole. Rafael ran a gentle hand through Sonny’s hair, and he realized there wasn’t anything keeping him from doing just that.

Sonny licked one long, hot stripe from sac to tip before he wrapped his lips around the head of Rafael’s dick and sucked deeply, hollowing out his cheeks and taking him into the back of his throat until Rafael cursed in Spanish and Sonny heard the unmistakable crack of his head hitting the concrete floor. Sonny pulled off, worried, but Rafael just patted him on the head and made a desperate, high whining noise until Sonny’s fist wrapped around his cock, pumping in long, slow strokes. “Easy, cowboy,” he drawled, humor in his voice as he watched Rafael’s face, eyes shut tight as his breath came in short, breathy gasps. 

Sonny sped up , his other hand finding Rafael’s nipple and rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger until it was hard. He ran a thumb over the head of Rafael’s cock, adding the moisture there to the growing mess of spit and precome he was using to jack Rafael off. 

“Sonny,” Rafael said, his voice choked, as a hand came out to grip Sonny’s forearm in an iron grip. 

“I got you,” Sonny said, “I got you Rafael. Come on, Rafael. Give it to me, let me see it. Let me see you come, Rafael, God I wanna see it,” Sonny’s mouth kept running, urging, begging until Sonny saw Rafael’s jaw clench and, in one quick movement, had the other man back in his mouth, his cheeks hollowed out and his mouth down to the base, the full length of Rafael pressed into this throat as he came in long, hot bursts. A cry burst from Rafael’s lips as his hand tightened in Sonny’s hair. Sonny continued to suck gently, teasing with his tongue, until Rafael squirmed and Sonny pulled off with a loud pop and a grin on his face. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and then wiped both hands on his thighs, spit and come leaving dark handprints on the front of his pleated khakis. 

Sonny leaned back on his hands, still settled in between Rafael’s thighs, as he watched the other man’s breathing slow. After a few lazy, indulgent minutes, Rafael spoke into the silence, his voice rough.

“Consider your drawer balanced, Mr. Carisi.”

And they both burst out in laughter again. 


End file.
